


Ain't That Strange

by fuckener



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckener/pseuds/fuckener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian stumbles into a committed relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't That Strange

They almost make a mess in a tacky New York bar the first time they meet. it’s a funny Sebastian Smythe game - spilling drinks over boys he likes the look of and making a big fuss that isn’t at all sincere. But none of the other boys he plays with are like Kurt at all, and none of them step into a sticky bar on the wrong side of the city wearing their best D&G shirt, either.

Sebastian goes to say sorry and tip his cider across Kurt’s chest when he’s met by a preemptive hand blocking him away and a look he’s only ever seen on the faces of people who like broadway a lot better than they like the shady gay clubs in queens.

“I’ve seen you do that to three other boys tonight already,” Kurt tells him, making a face. He looks Sebastian up and down, cocks an eyebrow. There are neon lights bouncing red and green reflections into his eyes and Sebastian is drunk enough to find it a little fascinating and to let himself be pushed away. “I need a little more originality than that.”

Sebastian stares down at him, absorbing this, then drops his cider on the closest table and gives Kurt a smile - his mom used to say it was Prince Charming’s and the girls at school used to say it was such a shame, really, that such a handsome boy had to go to waste like that - gives Kurt a smile and a salesman wink to top it off. “I’m handsome prince charming and I need - your number,” he half-slurs, drunkenly, and then he winks again just because.

When he’s sober he doesn’t understand why Kurt actually gives it to him.

-

It goes like this:

A first date in a nice Italian restaurant and a hot feeling down in his stomach when Kurt reads his order of the menu, accent and all. They talk mostly in barbs - Kurt doesn’t take him very seriously and doesn’t mind that he knows it, either - all he does is ask just how many boys the drink-spill gag works on and just how many boys Sebastian’s had a first date with this month (“A few, Sebastian tells him with a shrug, truthfully, then he leans in close and says with a smile, “So far I like this one best - you’re the only one I’ve said that to, promise”). Sebastian asks him about his family, his school, his chances of getting laid tonight. Kurt rolls his eyes over his glass of wine but doesn’t push him away when they’re waving down taxis home, saying goodnight, and Sebastian steals a quick little kiss.

A second one at Sebastian’s, where the lights are dimmed low and the ambiance is always at its optimum setting for what he wants to do with the few dates he does bother taking home. Inside, Kurt wrinkles his nose and only takes a glass or so of wine, and they talk for a bit about how Sebastian has the money for a loft like this without going to school; what’s with all the erotic art in the bathroom; and Sebastian asks last of all, “It’s coming up on midnight, what to do, what to do?” The attempt is laughed off, and it gives Sebastian a sort of thrill he knows rejection really shouldn’t; but Kurt doesn’t leave right away. He takes the glass out of Sebastian’s hand and sets it down on what he earlier admitted was a lovely choice of coffeetable, and the he sits down on Sebastian’s lap and kisses him for the second time, very, very softly. “You’re a catch, I guess,” Kurt tells him, smiling like he thinks something’s funny. “Normally I think I’d just throw you back out to sea.” But he kisses him again before he goes, pushed down against the cushions of Sebastian’s - admittedly lovely - couch and making little, breathy sounds into the parting of Sebastian’s lips, enough to drive him fucking crazy even after he’s gone.

The third time is an accident. They find each other at a new year’s eve party after about a week of dating plans being cancelled and schedules being wrecked (or, that’s what Sebastian kept telling him on the phone, anyway, resolutely pushing away the part of himself that liked the dimples in Kurt’s cheeks because things like that were difficult and alien - not like cheap drinks and fucking in public bathrooms - kept pushing it away until Kurt had sighed, said goodbye, stopped calling altogether). It turns out they share some distant friends, then they share some lousy drinks and a plate of cake he knows Kurt can’t finish alone. At midnight, Kurt kisses the girl he lives with and Sebastian kisses a boy he’s never met who he never meets again, eyes half open and fixed on somebody else. At one in the morning, they’re both drunk and Kurt has Sebastian up against a distant friend’s bathroom wall, and Sebastian’s lips are almost against his mouth, warmly breathing out the words _five four three two one_ -

It escalates from there on out. The strangest part is that he wants it to.

-

They date back and forth over ‘busy schedules’ - Kurt likes to bring up how Sebastian had tried to avoid him regularly, faux-passive aggressively, and Sebastian likes to play along with it, say he had the right idea then and he’ll just have to try again, mumbling the words against the swell of Kurt’s lips with a crooked smile. It doesn’t actually occur to Sebastian that it might be serious until he’s turning down a moderately hot guy using the phrase, “Sorry, I can’t, I have a - ”

A _something_ was the term he’d used, uncertainly, and he hadn’t told Kurt because he knew they couldn’t joke about the pressing, current issues of togetherness like they could about the ones they used to have two months ago, especially when there isn't much difference between them.

He doesn’t think Kurt notices what they’re becoming, either. It’s easy to be together because they don’t talk in-depth about _together_ like every other disastrous attempt Sebastian’s had at monogamy; Kurt does mention one relationship a lot, just one, a boy that he never names in a state he never goes home to and a heavy heart that wanted too much and scarred too easily at age sixteen.

The sleeping around thing was another gig of Sebastian’s only, a nice past-time for a boy in a conservative state: the gay kids would all flock to him, they would all see the shine of his shoes and the straightness of his smile and think it wouldn’t be so bad to be like him, either, and it never hurt to have a father in high places and a mother in more human-rights groups than anyone had a right to be. But Kurt grew up with one boy like him, just one boy who could love him, and when another one came along that boy forgot about him altogether (and they’ve been together ever since and they’re engaged and Kurt can be spiteful sometimes, maybe, but Sebastian is downright cruel when he wants to be; he hopes another another boy comes along and wrecks their lovely little home the same awful way, because there are bruises left in the softest places of Kurt’s heart that will never heal, and there is something funny about the way Kurt looks at him in surprise whenever Sebastian wants him, which is always: always pushing him back against grimy buildings in the city and kissing him too deeply on the subway back home).

-

Sex with Kurt is very, very different from any sex Sebastian has had before - which, admittedly, is kind of a lot.

He likes Kurt the first time, all of him, down to the freckle on the back of his left knee, this tiny, vague, faded thing. When Sebastian kisses it (their first time doing it, that is) Kurt huffs out this soft, breathless little laugh and says, “Don’t, don’t,” but he likes it every time afterwards that Sebastian does.

-

“Stay,” Sebastian learns he likes to say. “One more night,” he likes to say even more.

Kurt hums and makes a show of indecisiveness, completely nude in the middle of Sebastian’s bedroom, pausing in picking up his scattered clothes to tap his chin, thoughfully and say, “Hmm,” like he’s really thinking about it. “School or sex?” he asks, and he ignores Sebastian’s lewd grin and interruption of, “Is that even a real question?” Kurt ignores it, slides on his underwear and then ignores Sebastian sighing and booing him, loudly, rolling his eyes and climbing back onto the bed, back on top of Sebastian for a last, long kiss.

“Next time,” he breathes, and Sebastian likes the sound of it even if he knows it’s a lie.

-

Kurt refuses to let him sleep over at his apartment. 

He says his best friend is crazy and over-protective and he knows she’d see nothing wrong with sitting in the room beside his all night, painting her toenails, singing to herself and listening to them have sex. Whenever Sebastian advises him to move out and find a normal roommate who’d be positively horrified by the sounds of their filthy, apocalypse-provoking sex, Kurt will blush and hit his arm, say, “She’s my best friend. I love that girl.”

Rachel is okay, Sebastian thinks, and even though her enthusiasm about Kurt dating him died somewhere between his ten minute mockery of the soy food in their fridge and a joke a minute or two afterwards about horses and glue, she thinks he’s good for Kurt, which is the kind of thing he never expected anybody to say to him. “You make him happy,” she told him once in a stage whisper, wearing this big shiny smile like they were sharing a secret while Kurt picked a coat to wear in the next room. 

It’s kind of jarring to mix into someone else’s life, he finds. It’s strange to know another person’s apartment, their friends, their body so well. 

He looks at the photographs on Kurt’s dresser, picking them up and fiddling with them in a way Kurt would find impolite. There are some boys there, a lot of girls, a black-and-white woman Kurt doesn’t like to bring up. Sebastian doesn’t have photographs up in his house, but he has some hidden away somewhere, and he knows if Kurt ever came across them he’d know who they were all of with complete certainty, even though Sebastian seldom discusses any of them. That’s who Kurt is.

“You can still stay,” Kurt tells him, quietly, appearing at his back. His forehead presses against the back of Sebastian’s neck, and after a small pause his hands come up, spreading lightly over his shoulders. “We just can’t do - _that_.”

After a moment, Sebastian sets the frame in his hand back down again, shifting it into its place. He turns and pulls at the hands on his chest, tugging them around his own neck. “Or we could be very, very quiet about it,” he suggests, with the grin Kurt always calls sleazy, and on cue he’s met by rolling eyes and a half-quirked smile. 

Kurt steps another inch closer so their noses brush, their bodies are pressed together. Fingers slide through Sebastian’s hair and lazily scratch and drag through it. “What do you think?” Kurt asks, and abruptly he looks a little nervous, eyes looking too intently into Sebastian’s face, searching him.

It happens very quietly. Sebastian presses a kiss to the side of Kurt’s mouth, and he feels scared too, as small as his capacity for it is. “It might be nice, using a bed for sleep,” he hums against his lips, softly. He can feel Kurt huffing out a laugh and reflexively holds him closer and tighter in his arms. 

Kurt walks them backwards to the bed and the lavender smelling sheets, smiling into Sebastian’s neck and saying, “I can make it nice for you.”


End file.
